


Nightmares and Ghosts

by Erisandmira



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Not My Fault, Season/Series 03 SpoilersPsychological, the show didn't give me lots to work with
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:42:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23058697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erisandmira/pseuds/Erisandmira
Summary: In which Trevor and Sypha returns to the castle and Alucard struggles to believe it.
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya & Trevor Belmont & Sypha Belnades, Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades
Comments: 27
Kudos: 180





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

Silence, then - 

“ _Fuck_ ,” followed by a sharp intact of breath and; “are those people impaled?”

“Do you think… _he_ is back? That the corridor somehow released him?”

“Whatever the explanation is doesn’t change the fact that we need to find Alucard, quickly.”

* * *

Wisps of cold traced the dips in Alucard’s collar bone, slowly traveling down his chest and caressing his hips. Boldly venturing all over his lean body, _exploring_ , biting into his lips, licking his spine and wrapping itself so tightly around him that one could say it was _penetrating_ his being. 

Alucard quietly suffered its intrusion with trembling muscles, pallid skin and a hunched figure.

His fingers twitched, making a move as if to pull his blanket closer, but it was, like many other things, gone, thus leaving him only emptiness to grasp. The young vampire’s lungs ached as he tried not to cry ( _again_ ). It would be ridiculously childish crying over a missing blanket – except…except it had _just_ been with him. He had been clutching it a few moments/days/months ago…or has it been years?

_Asserting hands tearing into him, pulling him apart bit by bit (here is your reward), leaving nothing but raw flesh in its wake. He wants it to never stop, wants it to never stop, to never stop, stop, stop, STOP! STOP!_

Something warm and salty rolled down his cheeks. Sluggishly, he tilted his head to survey his surrounding, and hopefully locate his blanket. Bookshelves, a burned carpet, a desk and stuffed animals.

The painting, the one above the table, was a thought, a remembrance. Family. Mother. Fath- himself.

Seeing hurt his eyes, in more than one way, and his legs felt lifeless and the bones of his back were close to be permanently crooked. Slowly he moved one part at a time, ignoring the pain and rising from the ash scented floor.

_I must already be dead,_ Alucard thought (remembered), and both unnerved and calm.

Blinking repeatedly, the young vampire made his way across the room from the cold spot he had been lying on, and across the wooden floor. Finding the door, he stumbled into the darkness of his home, ignoring the imaginary flicking lights at the end of the hallway.

They were not real, not real....real.

* * *

“What the hell is going on? He just walked past us like we were nothing, like he couldn’t see us! Has he lost his mind? No, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“…did you notice the wounds?”

* * *

Dawn appeared like broken a bone cutting through the skin, steaking the sky with scarlet, vermillion and purple hues that made it resemble something bruised and bleeding. The mud beneath it (or more specially, beneath Alucard) had become enmeshed with raw pink flesh and dried blood, and Alucard himself had angry red scars grotesquely painting his ghostly skin.  
  


The air had grown less vaporous and the fog crept away to lie in wait for nightfall, and yet some odd misty creations still remained, taking the shape of two old acquaintances. The Trevor and Sypha figures stalked him from a distance, far more realistic and infuriating then previously. Fluctuating between approaching him like one would a wounded animal and yelling profanity at him.

Sometimes, Alucard interacted with them. While he understood that they were nothing more than images projected by his illness, spreading like an infection (he could see, hear and smell them), beautiful lies were so difficult to resist.

At a respectful distance behind him, imaginary Sypha followed. Oddly enough, neither of the illusions touched him (not since he cried the first time). With forced cheerfulness, imaginary Sypha launched into a story about a man who put wheels on his boat and called himself "the pirate of the road".

He laughed.

The pain throbbing in his guts was deep and warm, but not in a nice way. Like strings tightening around his insides, squeezing and tearing, slowly destroying him. Sometimes the pain waned and he could laugh honestly like this, but it only lasted a short moment. Had it not been for the triumphed look on imaginary Sypha (when did he start walking backwards?), Alcard might have curled right up here in the ground.

Daringly, no doubt encouraged by his laughter, imaginary Sypha skipped closer.

“It not even the stupidest thing I’ve heard on our adventures, you see, my stupid servant said that that the disgusting piss-brew, also called beer, was better than sex! Can you believe that? As if my – Alucard? Hey, what-“

* * *

“I don't know what to do,” Sypha tone was frustrated, scared and miserable, “he is hurting so much, and I don't know what to do.”

Trevor tried to school his expression to something comforting, but worry warped it right back to dejected. “We’ll figure it out, we have to.”

* * *

The heat from fingers brushing his hair crept into Alucard’s consciousness and his first thought was: _I want to pull away_. Touch. Imaginary or nor, felt too much like an invasion, an unwanted intimacy. _I want to pull away._

“Its okay,” a voice said, faint over the throbbing in his head, and Alucard wanted to yell it wasn’t.

He tensed when he realized the voice speaking was too far away to be the person sitting right next to him, but relaxed ever so slightly when he realized it was Sypha voice. Meaning the person caressing his hair was —

“Finally awake? About fucking time. You’re really committed to the whole vampire Jesus thing, sleeping for 3 days and all,” Trevor smiled, a beaming, affectionate gaze softened the corner of his eyes.

Alucard couldn’t remember ever seeing that expression on him; concern and worry mixed together with relief and happiness. It looked to unbelievable to be a product of his imagination. 

_Perhaps he – they are real_ , Alucard realized with a startled breath as Trevor rest his hand down on his shoulder. Alucard almost flinched away, but couldn’t quite manage it, not when Sypha’s voice said, “You’re okay.”

Footsteps circled around the bed and Sypha knelt next to him on the opposite side of Trevor. There were circles of exhaustion under her eyes, just like Trevor, but otherwise she looked happy, if not a little exasperated with him—or Trevor, he couldn’t really tell.

Alucard exhaled, his body automatically relaxing despite the… _unfortunate_ experience last time two people walked to his bed.

His thoughts felt fuzzy at best, but if those he was seeing was real, then maybe…maybe Sypha was right. Maybe it was okay.

On impulse, he reached one hand out, feeling a little ridiculous as he grabbed onto Trevor’s sleeve, focusing on the fabric against his curled fingers. A soft sound, maybe his name, left Trevor’s lips. Sypha’s fingers touched the nape of his neck in a gentle caress, and the world seemed to solidify around him, becoming more real; it’s childish and probably stupid.

But it was also the closes to safe Alcuard had felt in a long time.


	2. Chapter 2

Alucard could have sworn he saw him yesterday, glimpses of black and blood-red lurking in the darkness, but then his vision cleared and the image dissolved before it could take form. Standing completely still, Alucard waited—impulses to run, even towards damnation, beating along his nerves; but somethings things are futile.

Yesterday left a long time ago.

* * *

“Wakey, wakey, Alucard!” A soft voice crooned in his eyes, an eager smoky edge clung to vowels, coating the words in a familiar and charming accent. Kind. Curious. Fierce.

_Sypha._

A few moments ago, Alucard had been on the cusp of consciousness, wavering in the in-between where reality and the haunting visions that shadowed him merged into a seamless blend of vibrant swirls, leaving him uncertain as to what was real and what was not ( _again_ ). But then he _heard_ her enter the room, _felt_ the mattress dip beneath her weight and by the time her fingertips brushed his check, Alucard was awake.

Lazily, golden eyes opened and focused on the blonde woman sitting next to him. Her face lit up when she noticed he had awaken and she wore a smile so bright that Alucard almost missed the aching pain lingering at the edges. The smile of a child determined not to weep.

Alarmed, Alucard propped himself up on his elbows, the last bit of drowsiness fleeing from the sheer worry that flooded him. “Syp-“

She flung her arms around his neck, embracing him fiercely so tight it almost hurt. "She is so cute! I can’t thank you enough, it such a sweet gift, I’ll cherish it," Sypha paused to breath as she leaned a little bit back, one of her hands moved upwards, fingers sliding up to brush against the roots of his hair. " You are of man of _hidden_ talents, Adrian Tepes."

Something dark shifted across her expression, but it passed to quickly for Alucard to interpret it. It was a testimony to his improved…disposition that Alucard managed to curve his lips into a teasing smile before saying, “And you are a woman of cryptic _speech_ , Sypha Belnades, I'm afraid you've lost me. Perhaps, you can _speak_ clearer?”

She snorted and punched his arm with something soft. Blinking, he glanced down at the doll’s head staring back at him from against his shoulder. The two blue buttons gleamed as if mocking him.

He…he did not know the appropriate expression to wear as he stared down his odd handiwork. Whatever care and affection he had once seeped into mismatched doll felt distance, as if it happened in another lifetime. It brought back other memories of lifeless eyes peering straight into his soul.

“Alucard? Are you okay?” Sypha asked softly, at length, with a gentle, timid concern that simultaneously pained and comforted him.

_You’re okay,_ she had said so confidently a couple of days ago. She had believed it too, of that Alucard was certain, because Sypha Belnades was direct and outspoken; devastatingly honest because she didn’t view the truth as something shameful.

And yet –

“Was it not a gift? I didn’t mean to presume, it just looked like a mini-me and really, what else could it be?” she said nervously, biting her lip.

“It is a gift,” Alucard tried to smile, to make her smile again, but he failed on both counts.

She drew back, releasing him from her warm embrace, looking far more pensive than he could ever remember seeing her. She remained close, but he could feel the space between them increasing as more and more unasked questions piled up. He could see them crowding close behind her lips, but she didn’t voice them, didn’t push.

Instead, she smiled again and patted him on the shoulder affectionately, “A lovely gift, though Trevor disagree, he was insulted by the hair on doll-him. He grumbled that it looked like someone had taken a shit on its head!”

That startled a laugh out of Alucard, which visibly pleased Sypha despite how short and baffled it was. Clearing his throat, he said, “Did he really?”

She leaned forward, a conspirator's grin on her face, “Yep, I said you must have been going for realism.” She snickered when she finished, a merry sound that ended with an endearing little snort.

Alucard grinned, the idea of tracking down Trevor to tell him just how much he agreed with shit-head assessment was as tempting as it was delightful. Suddenly the prospect of leaving bed had turned much less daunting.

Satisfied, Sypha jumped out of bed, “He is probably making us breakfast right now, we should hurry before he finishes it by himself.”

Alucard nodded.

She paused at the door, her back still turned against him, tense and uncertain. “Alucard…you’re exactly who I think you are, right? There aren’t anymore- you aren’t…you wouldn’t hide anything, right?” she spoke in a barely audible voice.

_Everybody lies to us. Everybody hides things from us._

Oh.

_Oh._

Something scorched his inside, something that felt sickening, yet so more real than anything else. He tried to pin point the exact feeling surging through him, but couldn’t fully grasp it. He just knew it hurt. 

God, it hurt.

“Nevermindiambeingsilly, “ Sypha mumbled before running off.

Alucard pulled his knees up to his chest and cried.

* * *

But what if it really had been him, yesterday, the shadow looming over his bed? The whispers in the wind? The ominous presence? It seemed almost foolish _not_ to consider it. Stranger thing had happened, right?

_I thought I saw you, yesterday._

* * *

Silence reigned, and two roasted hares laid motionless on the center of the table. Surprisingly enough, Trevor had included a bowl vegetables, perhaps because he realized meat was not the most fitting breakfast choice. Alucard might have congratulated him on it, mockingly of course, but the numbness gnawing on his bone made impossible to feign any kind of joviality.

Sypha’s eyes kept flickering to him, and Alucard wished more than anything that he could eradicate the miserable look on her face. There are all lots of things he wished he could eradicate, himself included.

“Oh, fuck it,” Trevor sighed, glancing up at the ceiling as if beseeching help, “What’s wrong now?”

“Nothing-“ Alucard said at the exactly the same time Sypha blurted, “I’m so sorry!”

Trevor raised an eyebrow, leaning with his elbows on the table and giving both of them a suspicious look. Abruptly Sypha stood up, eyes locked on Alucard, her expression pained, and voice cracking as she said, “I didn’t mean to make you feel pressured or accused or anything. I-I’m just worried Alucard, and there has been, I’ve seen some bad things and I just want to hear from you I’m wrong. That there is an explanation, but you don’t have to give it now, or ever, if you don’t feel like it.”

A derisive laugh busted from Alucard’s mouth, because really, what else could he do? Sypha’s words were too absurd. His laughter grew more hysterical, rising rapidly in pitch as Sypha exchanged a meaningful look with Trevor. Alucard was almost gasping for breath when he finally managed to say, “Y-you won’t ask an _explanation_? I’ve impaled two people and you won’t _ask_ an explanation? My, my, surely Trevor objects?” A quick glance at Trevor revealed nothing, the other man was stone-faced, and for some reason that enraged Alucard. “What would your ancestors say, Belmont, if they knew their last heir is perfectly willing to allow a vampire impale people with as much as a protest, no. Would they weep if they saw you make said monster breakfast instead of eradicate-”

“We saw your wounds!” Syhpa cried, “We know you didn’t just murder them without provactio-“

Alucard lunged across the table, knocking the meal and two glass to the floor. The crashing sound was drowned out by the gasp Sypha let out as he yanked her by her top. He flashed his sharp teeth as he growled, “They tried to defend themselves, you see I killed them after fucked them, does that put you at ease?”

Alucard felt Trevor's hand grip his arm and thought _finallyfinfallyfinallyfinally_ – this could end, just the way it was supposed to, at least it was his friend.

The grip was painfully gentle, Trevor’s skin was rough and warm, somehow kind even as it was unyielding. Rather than restraining him, Alucard felt like Trevor’s hand was anchoring him. The monster hunter’s eyes were solemn, but not a hint of distaste colored them.

Tears began spilling down Alucard's face and the half-vampire felt the muscles of his chin tremble like a small child and he averted his gaze. Trevor’s compassion burned too brightly and he dared not see what expression Sypha was wearing now. His thought swirled inside him, too muddled to even try to make sense of them. Distantly, as if underwater, Alucard head his own ragged sounds, raw and ugly.

Once again, Sypha’s fingers caressed his hair, while Trevor’s hold remained steady.

“I-I,” Alucard sobbed, “They w-were innocent, I k-k-killed completely innocent people.”

Trevor voice was soft when he said, “People are rarely completely innocent.”

Alucard shock his head, so violently he felt dizzy afterwards, “You don’t understand. They were _humans_ , like you, like m-mom, and I killed them.”

_Like father._

“I hate to break it you, but your father hardly invented killing humans, nor was he the most successful, even with genocidal attempts,” Trevor muttered, “And it looked like those ´completely innocent humans´ made quite the number on you. Not something regular folks should be capable off,” Trevor place one gentle hand under Alucard’s chin, angling his face towards Trevor. Dark blue eyes peered into him, “So why are trying to frame yourself as the bad guy.”

Alucard half-suspected the tears had melted away his skin, stripping him raw, for how else could you explain the honesty of his next statement? An answer pulled from the darkest corner of his mind, one so painful that he himself hadn’t dared examine it before the words left his mouth, “They can’t be the villain, they _can’t_. I-I killed father, I killed my _father_ because humans didn’t deserve to be eliminated, because they weren’t – because, I killed _my_ father, they can’t just-”

Arms wrapped themselves around him – both Sypha and Trevor, pulling him closer, gently rubbing his arm. Despite the agony, the heaviness and tiredness, something eased inside him at the feeling of bodies pressed against his. He sunk into the warmth of his side, his breaths uneven and hitching occasionally. Sypha was crying too, so silently he wouldn’t have noticed had not her teardrops soaked his hair. He briefly wondered when she started to cry.

Trevor was the only one of them not trembling, he was steady and reliable. 

“People are shit, not everyone, not always, but generally,” Trevor sighed, “They hurt and abuse and take from you for no fucking reason…and you just have to make your peace with it.”

Alucard burrowed closer and closer, feeling more scared and confused than he has ever been.

* * *

_I thought I saw you yesterday, but that is impossible, right? I know that, I know that I´ll never see you again, father._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Better late than never? This chapter turned more angsty than intended, i'm half considering adding another chapter of pure fluff to make up for it. Thank you very much for all the support, I hope you're all staying safe <3

**Author's Note:**

> Man, castlevania season 3 really was something. My poor, poor Alucard. Heck, poor everyone (though Isaac had it relatively good, so there is that). 
> 
> Please let me now what you guys think! Reviews have a very positive effect on my writing ;D


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